My Life

'My life's my own! ' I've heard folks say, As if that were the truth, Forgetting how God paved the way, Yes, from their very youth. Their flesh and bones, their hands and feet, Their arms and legs as well, Were how God made them, so complete, With tongues that they could tell... Yet some won't offer God due praise, Like angels up above, No wonder that the lost soul strays And sins for lack of love. The lonely maiden out each night, One hand upon her glass, Pretending now with all her might, She's in another class... The businessman avoiding tax, With moneymaking schemes, His broken heart now showing cracks, Forsaking noble dreams. And even children joining gangs On drug-infested streets... Or dressing up with wings and fangs For Halloween-begged treats... 'My life's my own! ' I've heard folks say, As if Hell wasn't real. Yet soon life ends, then Judgment Day, No secrets to conceal. The rich will face the Lord they scoff, The fools will try to run... The wise ones can escape God's wrath... Just pray, 'Thy will be done...' Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.